| With your bombs and your bullets and your goings on,
|
| I’m right. |
| You’re wrong,
|
| Two minute warning, it won’t be long,
|
| You can stay, I’ll be gone,
|
| (Ah, she says that I says,)
|
| Why don’t you give my head some,
|
| (She says that I says,)
|
| Why don’t you give my head some peace.
|
| Oh, marching season, marching songs,
|
| Hitting drums all summer long,
|
| Sun is out, weather’s fine,
|
| Balaclavas on the line,
|
| (Ah, she says that I says,)
|
| Why don’t you give my head some,
|
| (She says that I says,)
|
| Why don’t you give my head some peace.
|
| (Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up)
|
| With your bombs and your bullets and your goings on,
|
| I’m right. |
| You’re wrong,
|
| Two minute warning, it won’t be long,
|
| You can stay, I’ll be gone,
|
| (Ah, she says that I says,)
|
| Why don’t you give my head some,
|
| (She says that I says,)
|
| Why don’t you give my head some peace.
|
| (Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up)
|
| Ah, give my head some peace,
|
| (Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up)
|
| Give my head some peace |